


Right As Rain

by mspeachykeen2012



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fight Scenes, I can't discredit domestic woochan, M/M, MMA, Mixed Martial Arts, Slight mention of other SK ships, Slow Burn, Smut, Some Fluff, woochan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-07-29 06:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16258655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mspeachykeen2012/pseuds/mspeachykeen2012
Summary: Wherein Woojin and Chan are MMA fighters training to achieve their dream of becoming one of the greatest in the sport. Naturally, their differing styles puts them at odds. But what happens when they realize there is so much more to the other beyond the caged octagon?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there :) 
> 
> I am back! But this time with a Stray Kids fic <3 Its actually funny how this idea came about but its way too long for ao3 so pm me and I'll tell you all about it. But the short version is: Bang Chan would be an amazingly determined MMA Fighter, Woojin has a serious side that in this universe makes him initially standoffish, and finish with both of them training under my MMA!Ravi from a VIXX fic of mine XD Thus, this fic is born <3
> 
> Main Pairing: Kim Woojin/Bang Chan, but there will be mention of other ships
> 
> Warnings: Fight scenes, slight violence, angst and smut.
> 
> Also, just to manage expectations, there are a lot of completely fluffy woochan stories out there. And while I enjoy them every now and then, this is not one of them, lol. So if that's not your thing, please feel free to skip :) This will also be cross posted to aff.
> 
> Now thats out of the way, I hope yall are excited to read! I really, truly hope you enjoy my first Stray Kids fic <3

                Perhaps that was when their rivalry ended. Their hands bloody from each powered strike and dangerous kick. And as Woojin let his weight settle in between Chan's thighs, legs curling around to lock, their eyes met.

               It was insane to think it could all amount to this very moment, Woojin thinking of Chan's busted lip pressed lightly against his.

               Perhaps it was when their rivalry ended.

               But all that ran through his head was their beginning, the moment their rivalry began.

 

Prologue

 

               Fatigued eyes read the directions displayed on his phone once more, though he had just checked it not a minute ago.

               Line 9, last stop.

               His new apartment was a couple blocks from it—which seemed rather convenient. They were also just around the corner from his new gym which was even more convenient.

               Looking up, Chan surveyed the signage pointing him to the exit of the underground subway station. This was Line 9, the last stop: Seoul Sports Complex Station.

               Shouldering his large duffel bag, that in turn knocked his bulging backpack askew, Chan started walking up the subway stairs. He could tell it was still earlier in the day, though the absolute gray of the sky threatened an early night. Shivering slightly as he stepped on to the sidewalk, realizing that while he had peeked at the weather in South Korea, he hadn’t quite prepared for the brisk chill of Autumn. And watching as everyone breezed by him, bundled up in large scarves and thick jackets, Chan cursed his flimsy sweatshirt.

               To be fair, he hadn't thought it was going to be quite so cold.

               That just meant that the sooner that he got to his apartment, the better. And he'd go shopping once he was settled. In the meantime, he could withstand a little cold.

               Especially since, without realizing it, he was already grinning at the world passing him by. This completely new, completely refreshing world. His arrival in South Korea not only meant a giant leep forward for his career, it was also an opportunity to discover his culture again. Though he knew the language fluently, he had very much grown up Australian.

               Lips curling at the memory of his home country, Chan took a deep breath.

               Taking one step, then two, he started towards his apartment. He'd drop his stuff, call his parents to let them know he arrived before texting his new trainer to do the same. And ask where he needed to report, what time and anything else he may need to bring.

               Honestly, he had no idea what to do after that.

               So instead of waiting to text, he called.

               "Hello?" a deep voice answered, more gruffer than Chan had expected.

               "Hello Mr. Kim. This is—This is Bang Chan. I just got off the train and wanted to let you know I made it in alright."

               There was a bit of static, enough of a pause that Chan started to steel his jaw. Running through his short message, he found nothing wrong in his delivery.

               But then his new trainer's voice came through, much clearer and Chan realized he must have moved locations.

               "Ah that’s great to hear. Are you at the apartments then?" Mr. Kim asked.

               "Not quite, I am still walking."

               After a quiet chuckle, Mr. Kim spoke again. "Well, why don't you get settled in and then come by the gym. I'll have Jae send you directions so you can meet everyone."

               Chan just grinned, dimples deepening.

               "That sounds perfect. I'll drop off my stuff and then head right over." Then, before he could change his mind, Chan breathed. "Thank you so much Mr. Kim, I am… honored to be able to train with your program."

               "I hope you enjoy your time here. And please, call me Wonshik."

 

-

 

               The sound of knuckles slamming into the fabric of the punching bag was accompanied only by the melodic hum of Woojin's voice. He was currently listening to the soundtrack belonging to (one of) his all time favorite dramas.

               Though, as he repeatedly assaulted the bag, no one would ever know he was listening of heart breaking unrequited love.

               Stopping when he felt his muscles start to whine at each extension, Woojin quickly pictured what his trainer would bark, in his low but emphatic tone:

               "One more. You can do one more."

               Woojin did five more, perspiration painted arms dropping by his sides. Too tired to even wipe the sweat slipping down his temple, he simply shook his head. Unfortunately, his short brunette hair landed in his eyes as a result.

               His feet took him over to the closest wall and he uncermeniously sank down it, throwing his arms over his knees. His heavy eyes watched the others in the gym, finally coming down from the workout high to recognize faces and sounds other than his own. He tended to go blank when he was fighting, limiting every sense but his physical reaction to his mind's calculations.

               Now, he watched as there was the same _slap_ and _thud_ as his own hands made with each jab. All 6 of them were spread out, working on a different area. Personally, he hated the bag but it was only because it was the area he needed most work in. He was never a striker, grappling being more his forte.

               But when Kim Wonshik, MMA super star and ex-UFC Middleweight champion, tells you to do something, you do it.

               And that’s why he was here, wasn't it? To be as great as Wonshik.

               They were lofty dreams, the elder being one of the best MMA fighters in the history of South Korea. But Woojin was nothing if not determined.

               Pushing up from the wall, he finally dragged a hand through his sweat drenched hair, bending down to swipe his water bottle. Spraying it in his mouth messily, Woojin joined the other trainees as each neared the end of their session.

               Each day, they ended with a sparring session and two out of the 6 would face off. By then, their bodies had been pushed to their limits and exhausted. It definitely forced them to get creative, Woojin had realized with a slight smile. 

               Now, as he waited for everyone to finish their workout, he leaned against the ring with his hip, draping his arms through the plastic ropes.

               Suddenly, there was a screech of the metal garage door, the large industrial one that had once belonged to the steel containers factory and now belonged to the Jamsil Boxing and MMA Training Center.  Woojin felt his eyes stray to it, wondering who would be coming this late in the day. With his arms still dangling lazily, he watched with a little bit of interest, more reservation.

               There, standing, was a man just about his height, if not a tiny bit shorter.

               He had faded aqua hair now a blonde-ish color that curled slightly, longer than most as the back barely dusted his neck.

               His nose was strong and the most prominent part of his face—well, that and his smile.

               His fucking face changing smile.

               Feeling goosebumps break out along his spine, Woojin blinked.

               "Let me introduce you," he heard his trainer say, reaching out to welcome the newcomer. But his eyes would not look away, not from the way the stranger's perfectly proportioned body waltzed in as if no one had ever ruined his day.

               "Everyone, I'd like you to meet our newest trainee, Bang Chan."

               The stranger with a name met everyone's curiousity with a polite round of bows, raising after Woojin's to catch the brunette's stare. If possible, his mouth spread wider, perfectly white teeth glistening.

               Woojin's lips pressed together tightly.


	2. Verve

               "See you tomorrow, Woojin."

               Looking back from the dark roads glittered with street lights, Woojin nodded. He was one of the last people leaving the gym. Beyond its walls, the night lived on and people, mostly couples, enjoyed their evening out. It was Friday and work was done for at least the next two days.

               But for Woojin, the days all ran together and he would need to be up before the sun.

               It was not in vain, he reminded himself easily.

               Popping in his ear buds, Woojin started down the street. He lived just a 30 minute walk from the gym and he wanted to stop by to pick up dinner. His fellow trainees were good about cooking, always making sure to eat the best ingredients and the right proportions. He didn't have the time to think of groceries and meals and what not. There wasn't enough time in the day for that.

               So instead, he would pick up dinner from a place not far from his apartment, at a cluster of shops and stores that pandered to the working crowd during the day. At this time of night, there was only one that was still open.

               Pushing through the doors, bringing a heavy draft with him, he was immediately greeted by the smells of roasted chicken, steamed vegetables and ginger. Feeling his lips curl, Woojin found his favorite owner sitting at one of the empty tables. After 7:30 in the evening, it was a ghost town and now at near 10, the small restaurant was only open for him.

               Suddenly turning, the middle aged woman threw up her hands.

               "Finally!" she exasperated, though her dark eyes glinted with sentiment. At his bow, she playfully slapped his shoulder and waited for him to stand. When he did, she craned her neck to look up at him. "We closed the kitchen an hour ago, but we made you a plate."

               Bowing his head, he put his hands together. She slapped his arm with a large grin.

               "Seungmin went home, but he told me to tell you that he'll stay longer tomorrow." The woman started untying her apron and headed towards the back, waving her hand as she spoke. "I told him he can close tomorrow." Peeking at him, she huffed. "I won't be waiting around for you."

               Woojin chuckled, eyes wandering around the room. "It was a long day."

               Reappearing with a bag full of food and a smoothie in hand, she extended it out to him. Taking just a couple steps to her many, Woojin respectfully took the offering. He could feel the heat against his knuckles and he blinked at the container.

               Looking back, he raised a single eyebrow. The woman rolled her eyes and dismissed him, though her smile was relieved.

               "OK, so the kitchen didn't close quite yet."

               "Auntie," Woojin said softly. She narrowed her eyes. "Thank you."

               "Just promise you won't keep Seungmin out too late tomorrow. He needs to be studying," she said, putting a hand to her hip as she brushed her bangs from her face.

               Woojin simply nodded. He was exhausted and the walk here had felt like days, but he was glad he could see this woman's face. So close to his mother's own that he sometimes felt like he was staring right at her.

               Blinking, he raised the food and said his thanks once more before telling her to get home safely as well. They bid each other a goodbye with the promise to see each other soon.

               Woojin walked on against the wind, heard it howling next to his ears. It pushed his hair back from his forehead as it gusted, telling of an Autumn storm that was headed his way. But he didn't mind the cold—in fact he loved the chill. It invigorated him and reminded him of his own skin, of his own body. Even as his cheeks pinkened from the brisk breeze, Woojin didn't mind.

               Walking into his apartment building using the electronic key, he quickened his steps for the elevator. Someone was just pressing the up button, he could see and part of him, the tiny spiteful part, wanted to make them wait.

               But then he stopped mid stride. Not entirely sure why, but Woojin suddenly pictured it was the young man who had come to the gym. With his large sweatshirt and silly hair, he jabbed the close button. And he smiled as the door closed in front of Woojin's face.

               Blinking back to reality, Woojin noticed the person holding the elevator doors, giving him an expectant look.

               "Sorry," he apologized as he hurried onto the lift.

              

-

 

               "Thank you again," Chan said, taking the offered glass of water. "Your house is…"

               As he trailed off, Wonshik paused in taking a seat.

               "Amazing," Chan finished with a little bit of a flush.

               It was amazing, but then again, everything about Wonshik was amazing. From his amazing gym to his amazing house to his amazing dog—

               Which was currently chewing on his shoelace, actually.

               "Ah, get out of here," Wonshik shooed the pup, grinning widely when the dog did not obey.

               "I don't mind… Reminds me of my family's dog—hard headed but cute."

               Wonshik's laugh was infectious. "Sounds right."

               Looking around, the young fighter tried to think of his next words because this was Kim Wonshik and he had invited him into his house—which was fucking amazing—and Chan couldn't embarrass himself by being boring. Not when there was so much at stake!

               Eying a pair of glasses on the side table, the younger man started to ask when Wonshik interrupted him.

               "You know, you're very different than when I first met you," he said slowly, taking a sip of his own water. "You didn't smile once when I was in Sydney, not even when I asked you to come to Korea."

               Chan's mouth went dry. "Um. Well…"

               "You can be honest. I invited you here to get to know you, figure out what it is that you want to accomplish." Reaching down and dragging Butt from the tongue of Chan's shoe, Wonshik added, "And to make sure you get rid of the stars in your eyes."

               Barking in laughter, Chan was slightly relieved. The pressure was off. Wonshik already thought he was obsessed, couldn't really go lower than that.

               But he quickly calmed himself, allowing his shoulders to lower.  "I was different back there."

               "Back home?"

               Shaking his head, Chan ran a hand through his hair. "No, Sydney. At that gym."

               Wonshik stayed silent.

               "I had been there for too many years, each passing with more and more regret. I mean, I knew I wasn't the greatest but some of the guys there were trash. And everyone was getting selected, they all got contracts. And I just… I guess I was a little jaded towards the end."

               Wonshik's eyes went to the door as he scratched his chin with the back of his knuckles. "I guess that makes sense."

               "The jaded part?"

               "No."

               Chan swallowed.

               "I remember the first time I saw you fight," Wonshik started with a slight smile. "You were… you were magic out there. And you were so…" Their eyes met. "You were angry. I could see the fury pumping through your veins, I _felt_ how incredibly livid you were."

               Shrugging his shoulders, Wonshik leaned back. "You don't find that very often. So I had to take you."

               Chan laughed, shaking his head. "They basically threw me at you."

               Wonshik joined in with a chuckle, eyes sparkling. "You'll show them then, huh?"

 

-

 

               "I am doing fine—I promise," Chan said with a sweet simper.

               His mother sighed but gave in as she kissed the camera, handing the phone to her husband. Chan's brow knitted a bit as he saw his father's face invade the screen. He simply adjusted the phone against the back of the desk, swallowing as they remained silent.

               "Your mother won't stop worrying. You should call often," his father said plainly. Chan nodded. "Now what is it like? Did you eat?"

               "You sound like mama."

               "Aish, you should stay there and learn how to respect people older than  you," his father complained though there was a lilt that spoke of comfort in there.

               "I met with Mr. Kim tonight. He is… Dad, he is so cool," Chan whined, head falling to his folded arms. He heard his father finally laugh, pointing out his son's small bald spot. "What if—"

               "No. I don't want to hear it, Chris."

               Chan peeked at the stern tone, glad he met his father's authoritative gaze. He could hear his mom in the background, chiding her husband for using that voice with him. But Chan loved it—needed it to course correct because he could go off road sometimes.

               And his father, though he wouldn't always say it, supported and believed in his son beyond measure.

               "I start weight training tomorrow. They said I am too slender," he mumbled with a quirk of his lips.

               "Did you give Jisung a call yet?"

               His mother echoed the sentiment and Chan laughed, sitting up straight and reaching for the phone.

               "I just got in today, I'll reach out tomorrow. He's probably busy—"

               "I talked to his mother, she said she made him put your number in his phone."

               Rolling his eyes with a sigh, one that he tried to hide the moment he remembered he was video chatting with his parents.

               "You'll thank us later, you two are good friends—"

               "Dad, we played video games when we were younger. That’s not… Its different when you've never met and—"

               "His mother said she'd love for him to have friends his own age. He's hanging around with a bunch of kids. She's ready for him to grow up."

               Chan looked away, biting his tongue. Han Jisung had to be 20 or 21 by now. Turning back to the phone, he flashed a wide smile. His father waved him off, muttering about how he wasn't going to text Jisung.

               Passing the phone like pros, Chan watched in amusement as his mother came back on the line.

               "Just promise you'll call him before the weekend is over."

               Blinking, Chan felt his face fall a little.

               "Ma—"

               "It doesn’t have to be like it was here, Chris," his mother said gently, eyes softening. She could joke a lot, it was probably where he got his wit from. And she certainly could be stern, which was probably where he got his temper from. But she knew him better than he knew himself sometimes and with one look, she could disarm the 24 year old in seconds.

               "I don't want it to be like that, either." Looking away, he sighed, losing his smile altogether. "I just…"

               "Let me give you some advice. From an old woman who has years of experience." She waited for his eyes to meet hers. "You don't have to be alone to be independent."

               Pursing his lips, Chan simply nodded.

               He'd put forth the effort to get to know people, to not retreat into his own bubble with these new people. With this whole new world.

               Wonshik had not seen him smile in Australia, which was funny because he couldn't remember stopping since he stepped off the plane. He was happy to be here, happy to be working with someone he admired. He was excited to see this beautiful country and meet new people.

               He was excited to fight, to show off a craft he had been cultivating for 8 years now.

               Smiling, he focused back on his mother's face. Her own lifted with a grin and she nodded.

               "You'll be fine. I will miss you dearly but you'll be fine."

 

-

 

               The next morning Woojin was stretching his hamstrings as they all huddled in the entrance of the gym, their shared body heat creating a slight fog around them. It was cold this morning. Their 5:30 am group run usually started a couple minutes late due to someone having to use the bathroom or having pressed their snooze button too late.

               Bending over, grabbing his calves, Woojin saw the pair of shoes walk up next to him. He stayed an extra 15 seconds for them to pass. But they didn't.

               Slowly straightening, he noticed the new guy. His hair was a little tussled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. His eyes were narrowed with the remnants of sleep—so maybe he did just roll out of bed. And when he grabbed his shoulder and started stretching alongside Woojin, the brunette's eyes widened.

               Bang Chan was smiling through his sleep softened face, staring at Woojin like he was happy to see him. There was a bit of trepidation but not enough to be telling.

               And for some reason, the energy he was pumping out made Woojin…

               Annoyed?

               Self conscious?

               Aroused?

               Eyes piercing, Woojin felt uncomfortable. It gave him goosebumps and nausea at the same time.

               So he did what he needed to, looking right at Chan's smile: he started to run.


	3. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this double update <3

               "I can't explain it."

               "Well you're going to have to try… at least," Seungmin added, looking over his shoulder. They were unpacking produce into the refrigerator in the back of the small restaurant. It was a Sunday, and while he still had to train, they were sometimes given reprieve. Today, they didn't have to be at the gym until 1 pm.

               Woojin cut his eyes at his younger cousin, wanting to leave the comment at that.

               How could he put into words why he just didn't like Bang Chan?

               There wasn't some deep explanation or a hidden gem buried in Woojin's feelings—he literally just found the other young man aggravating. Everything about him was just _aggravating_.

               Chan's energy was too loud, too overwhelming. He could come into the gym and heads would turn, his aura spread out in every direction. And the others were all charmed, his smile seeming to grow with each soul he captured. There were so many things, he couldn't even begin to list them.

               But his fight style was the worst part.

               Woojin hadn't been fighting for long, at least not in MMA but he had a rhythm and an order. Even the others in the group made sense when they fought, had their signature styles. Woojin knew each of their executions.

               Chan didn't seem to _have_ a style. He was all over the place—here, there, up, down. Sometimes he'd only do ground work, quickly working like a viper. Sometimes he was like a boxer, his jabs and strikes powerful and deadly.

               He seemed to be able to do everything.

               And that in itself, was annoying.

               "So is he hot?"

               Blinking, Woojin focused once more on the task at hand. His arms were full of lettuce and Seungmin was smirking at him. His young cousin wasn't normally flirty, tended to be a little mischievous only when they were with their shared friends. But one on one, especially with Woojin, he got a little more serious.

               So his question caught Woojin off guard.

               "I'll take that as a yes," Seungmin snorted, uncrossing him arms and heading back to the truck.

               Woojin couldn't move fast enough. "No! No, Seungmin, he is not."

               Following out into the rain, the brunette grabbed the younger man's sleeve. Judgemental eyes looked back, lips curling.

               "He's not. That's not… it," Woojin said slowly.

               "Ok," Seungmin relented, though his smile only grew. "It is interesting you felt you needed to run and tell me that."

 

-

 

               The first time Chan noticed that Woojin was a little reserved was when he had asked where the older man was going after a long day, maybe they could walk home together.

               He was met with silence.

               Then the greenish blonde noticed the ear buds in Woojin's ears. He quickly justified the scene as a miscommunication.

               The second time was a little more clear, the brunette directly ignoring whatever question Chan had asked. Looked right in his eyes, then away, turning back to his kick lunges. This time, he wore no ear buds.

               The third, and final, time was when Chan had been more deliberate. Hindsight being clear, he knew he had been petty. For an entire two weeks, Chan was essentially invisible to Woojin. He didn't acknowledge his existence whatsoever, no matter how hard he was trying.

               Everyone else at the gym had been so welcoming, even helpful. Which wasn't always the case when people were all aiming for the same goal. But it was different here, they weren't fighting against each other. It wasn't so much of a competition, more of an alliance. And the alliance was curious about him.

               Chan was something new, something different. Whether they were asking him to say something in English so they could laugh at his accent or they ooh-ed at his hair, not just the thick texture, but the color.

               Even Jae, their head trainer and Wonshik's personal coach, had laughed when someone had called him the Batman's Joker. Chan was still quite afraid of the Thai man but had simply chuckled and agreed, his faded green hair looking a little circus like. They had all shared a nice 10 minute break with that, enjoying the new member of their team.

               Well, all except for one person.

               Right now, Woojin was busy stumbling through the open garage door. It was currently raining outside, the last couple of days being a wet, cold mess. And when the brunette came in, he was met with wide eyes.

               He was thirty minutes late to their first set of the day, having already missed the morning cardio. And they all knew that meant, even Chan who hadn't been here more than a couple weeks had heard of Wonshik's notoriously strict schedule. Tardiness was not allowed.

               Chan's eyes followed as the near soaked Woojin walked over the rubber mats, shoes squeaking with each step. He hiked up his duffel bag, looking down as he passed Jae. The elder reached out and caught the fighter's arm before he made it to the locker room.

               Whispering something in Woojin's ear, Jae made it obvious he was not happy.

               Lucky for the trainee, Wonshik was still out of town and would not be making an appearance that week. But by the look on Woojin's face, he was not out of the woods and his solemn nod signaled he understood and accepted whatever punishment he faced.

               Chan recognized the moment it happened, knew he shouldn't have done it. But some part of him, the immature part that had been so easily and so thoroughly brushed off by the older fighter, reveled in this small knock down. And he smiled.

               Woojin's eyes crawled up and found his, widening at the grin on Chan's face before falling in a harrowing glare.

               "You think that's funny?"

               If it hadn’t been so cliché, Chan wouldn’t have smirked. But it was, and the energy that Woojin was _finally_ emanating was like a source of light for the younger man. It had been almost two weeks of nothing—no good, no bad—from Woojin and for some reason, it was enticing to Chan. He was finally getting some attention.

               "I didn't say anything," Chan said formally, though his lips were still slightly curled.

               Woojin just stood, shoulders pressed back as they watched each other.

               "Woojin," Jae said sternly, breaking the staring contest. "Get dressed. Now."

 

-

 

               Swiping down his face with a towel, Woojin breathed through his nose. His chest heaved as he scrubbed at his sweat soaked hair. He had lost his sweatshirt halfway through training and now panted in a dripping tank top.

               Jae had not been bluffing when he said he was going to make sure Woojin was never late again.

               Face flushed, Woojin paid attention as Jae once again addressed the fighters.

               "The weather is changing and I can tell on all of your faces," the older man said, eyes meeting each of theirs as he looked at the group. "You all need to step it up. This was a long day but it can be longer."

               Woojin didn't look away when Jae focused on him.

               "Woojin," he called, pointing to the ring behind him. "Up there."

               There was a bit of surprise that reverberated through the group, no one having the guts to look away from Jae. Bang Chan did, though. He looked right over to Woojin as he pulled himself up slowly.

               Making his way onto the mat with still wobbly legs, Woojin continued taking open mouth breaths. He couldn't let them know he had no energy left, that each step felt like 10. If he did, then they would take advantage of his weariness.

               "I'll be nice and let you choose. Who do you want to fight?" Jae asked, folding his arms.

               The words were not harsh, though to the exhausted young men all sprawled out on the neoprene flooring, they were heavy.

               Woojin's eyes slipped over each face, flushed red and blotchy. They were all tired but he needed to find the most worn out. He'd have a chance at winning if he could do that.

               Passing over Chan, he found the down turned face of Youngjae. Perfect.

               "I want—"

               "I'll fight him."

               Everyone looked at Chan as he stood easily, their murmurs now passing between them.

               Woojin steeled his jaw.

               Pointing at Youngjae but watching Chan, he gritted out: "Come on."

               "Why not?" Chan asked, walking up to the ring, hanging his hands on the ropes. His face was turned up, the trails of sweat down his face illuminated by the flourescent lights above. His cheeks were pink as well, but they looked like blush on his sun kissed skin.

               Woojin ignored him easily. "Youngjae, hurry up so we can get this over with."

               Chan looked back over his shoulder at the young man in question. Youngjae was tentatively standing, looking between Woojin and Jae. Then back to Chan. 

               Grabbing onto the nylon ropes, Chan hopped up onto the edge of the ring. Slipping through easily, he straightened to his full height.

               "I haven't been able to fight yet—"

               "And you won't today." Making sure he caught Chan's eyes, Woojin tried to intimidate him as best as possible.

               Jae would ruin any chance of that, though. The trainer came to the ringside, looking at them both.

               "Woojin, I told you I'd give you the choice."

               Woojin could feel his body heat up, embarrassment coloring his face.

                "But it looks he decided for you."

               Blood simmering in his veins, Woojin's fingers curled. Chan turned back to him, the ghost of a smile on his face. He was certainly enjoying this.

               Starting to unwrap the cloth on his hands, Woojin muttered: "No gloves."

 

-

 

               Normally, the bouts only lasted five to seven minutes and were good natured in execution. It was to push the men past what they considered their edge. The point they couldn't go beyond. And it did, every single time.

               They always left feeling prouder than they had come in that day.

               But this was not a normal fight.

               The trainees were all gathered around the ring, eyes glued to the two fighters who were  bare knuckled and chugging water. Woojin was side stepping, trying to get some blood pumping into his legs which were still vibrating with fatigue. Chan hopped a little, stretching the arch of his feet before he grabbed his ankles. Jae leaned against the ropes, looking at both of them

               The tension was so thick, the humidity of the large gym felt _good_ in comparison.

               "Alright, five minutes," Jae said. "Let's go!"

               The first step was taken by Chan, his soles light and Woojin narrowed his vision as he brought his hands up to guard his face and neck. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, his arms yawning as he tightened his fist.

               Chan's hands were raised as well, though they weren't curled and his feet lead him straight to Woojin. He was not going to wait, though he wasn't quite in the stance to strike yet. Woojin backed up, Chan continued forward.

               "Stop running, Woojin!" Jae boomed, an intake of breath in reply.

               Suddenly, Woojin launched a right hook, Chan easily dodging it though it was enough to stall him. Now curling his fists, he raised them to sit in front of his shoulders. Feet starting side stepping, his body bobbing slightly.

               Woojin again stepped into his swing and tried for a right left combo, grunting as Chan once again dodged. This time, as his body tried to rebound from the position, Chan easily caught him in the ribs with a right jab.

               The other guys were now starting to voice their thoughts, telling Woojin to take him down. It was true—Woojin hated striking. He was a grappler naturally and if he could get Chan to the ground, he might have a shot.

               The blonde watched his eyes flit from the mat to the ropes.

               Dropping his shoulder, Chan rammed right into the side of Woojin, grabbing the back of his thighs and lifting.

               There was a collective gasp before the loud thud of Woojin's back slamming against the ground, his arms coming to shield his face. Chan was taking advantage, grabbing his hands while leaning into multiple elbows. Woojin gritted his teeth as he bucked his hips to get Chan in a position he could twist them.

               "Circle him!" Jae was hollering.

               Woojin could feel his blood start to boil, his anger that he always suppressed rising to the forefront. He could not allow that to color his judgement, not when he was exhausted and just trying to make it through this spar.

               Chan wasn't angry, though. His face, dripping with perspiration, didn't hold any malice as he threw elbow after elbow. In fact, he was starting to grin.

               Woojin roared as he bucked one last time, dislodging Chan enough to roll them over so that he was on top. The other trainees were hollering, warning Chan not to give Woojin his back—which he was half doing. The blonde didn't have time to correct, the brunette snaking an arm beneath Chan's and effectively guiding it back.

               Chan winced as his body pulled a little unnaturally, his forehead grinding into the mat as he tried to take the position away from Woojin. He knew if they stayed like this for any longer, he'd be submitted. And he didn't want to give the standoffish fighter that satisfaction.

               Leaning into the mat, Chan pressed his hips into the mat, spreading out and loosening the hold Woojin had on his body. His arm was still partially locked by Woojin's but the older man was losing ground to anchor on, the two of them finally slipping apart. The cheers from the audience made Chan start to laugh again.

               Woojin frowned as he struggled to stand, looking over to Jae. The Thai man shook his head.

               "Fuck," he cursed, chest heaving with his breaths.

               "Don't give up," he heard others say and it made his face wrinkle again, this time in anger.

               It had been more than five minutes and Chan didn't seem fazed, his eyes bright and his lips curled. The fucker was smiling and all Woojin wanted to do was wipe it off.

               That fueled his next attempt: a left hook that he powered with his right thigh. It slid against Chan's ear and in answer, the blonde bounced back before launching his own right jab. It landed on the corner of Woojin's left eye, cutting his cheek as it immediately swelled.

               "Shit! I am so sorry—" Chan was saying, the fighter's arms dropping as he came over to Woojin.

               The purpose of these weren't to injure each other and while Woojin had called for no gloves, Chan's eyes sagged as he tried to examine the damage.

               Pawing at Woojin's hands that covered his eye, Chan tried to press against the ballooning flesh to stave off some of the swelling. Jae was in the ring now too, asking to see the hit.

               Woojin blinked at Chan with his good eye, his faded hair soaked with sweat as it stuck to his glossy forehead. He wasn't smiling anymore, his eyes heavy with regret. It was all spelled out there, the emotion brewing behind them so easily readable. His fingers caught Woojin's and finally lowered it from his face.

               Chan's eyes studied Woojin, his open mouth quivering as he scanned. His left eye was completely swollen shut and all he saw Chan through was his right one, a faint haze coloring the other fighter.

               Chan's mouth curved and his white teeth grabbed his bottom lip for a millisecond. His hands tilted Woojin's face with his fingers lightly.

               "Ah, you'll be fine," he murmured sweetly.

               Woojin's half vision went red, his fists curling on their own accord as he dropped his shoulder and raised his fist. The uppercut caught Chan by surprise, the click of his teeth clashing resounding in Woojin's ears.

               Closing his eyes, he heard the others clamber into the ring, then felt Jae's arms ripping him away and pushing him to sit in the corner. He fell unceremoniously to the ring mat, resting his head against the pole.

               He didn't want to look, he realized as he heard all the questions shot at Chan. He heard moaning, the deep whine vibrating in Woojin's chest.

               Woojin didn't open his eyes until he felt Jae yank him up, seething words and angrier that he'd ever seen his coach. He stared back as Jae told him to get out of his face. Then Jae stepped away, Woojin's eyes falling to the crowd huddled around Chan. There was blood on his tank top, dribbling over his chin as his hands held his mouth.

               While Woojin slipped away, his fatigued body shivering with adrenaline, he thought wryly and unfairly: Chan didn't have anything to smile about now.


	4. Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a double update so if you haven't read Chapter 3: Fight yet, please do so now :)

               Chan groaned when he stuck out his injured tongue, slowly licking his chapped lips. Pulling back, he gingerly flexed his jaw. He could still taste the blood even though the medicine was masking any real pain.

               "Ok, and I just sign here?"

               Dark eyes slid over to admissions desk, Jisung's honey blonde hair falling in his face as he bent to sign a piece of paper.

               Chan didn't have any one's number to call and when Jae demanded he go to the hospital, he had simply mumbled Jisung's name. Well, as much as one could do with a swollen tongue crowding his mouth.

               Frowning, Chan pushed the memories out of his mind.

               "Alright, let's go," Jisung sighed, giving Chan a look. "Don't try to talk," he said before the fighter could even try. The blonde's eyebrows shot up. "Actually, this'll probably be the best conversation we've ever had."

               Chan raised a playful hand, though his face didn't quite match his jest.

               The two had played video games against each other years ago, when they were both teenagers. Meeting on a global server, they had recognized they had similarities in culture and language. But also had a good report, their tit-for-tat friendship leading to many late night conversations.

               But Chan remembered Jisung as idolizing him a little more, looking up with 13 year old eyes at the then 17 year old Australian. Now, Jisung was taller than him and seemed confident beyond his years. He had also dropped everything to come to the hospital the moment one of the other trainees had called him.

               Walking to the car, Jisung pressed the remote to unlock the doors. It was fuzzy outside, microscopic droplets suspended in the air but it felt good against his skin. He had been burning up there, Chan's body still reeling from the blow.

               "My mom is going to flip when she sees your mouth," Jisung commented as he climbed in.

               "I just won't smile," Chan mumbled, barely intelligible.

               Jisung snorted in laughter, turning on the car. Then he looked over, giving a soft gaze. "I am glad you called me."

               "Why?"

               "I don't know. I thought… I didn't think you would, that maybe you'd think you were too cool for me now."

               Chan's forehead wrinkled, his chapped lips pressing together.

               "And I guess, you might still feel like that since the moment you call me is when you need help," Jisung continued, turning back to the parking lot. "But we're going to be friends, you can't say no at this point," he smiled.

               The older man simply watched, feeling his cheek twitch with the makings of a smile.

 

-

 

               Woojin knew he had it coming.

               And as he sat in Wonshik's office, the older man talking to Jae outside of the room, his head hung in shame.

               He shouldn't have done it—he knew that.

               But he couldn't help it, almost as if it wasn't his body. There was too much emotion bubbling up in him that it made him feel different. It wasn't as simple as he didn't like Chan.

               He didn't like his face. He didn't like his style. He didn't like his personality, his charm, his voice, his—

               "Kim Woojin," the bass of his leader vibrated against the walls and the brunette felt his chin meet his chest.

               Wonshik took a seat across from him, his chair rolling in to fit against the desk. Wonshik leaned his elbows against the top, joining his hands. His short sleeve shirt stretched against his body, his long arms covered in the intricate and winding lines of ink. The skulls on the backs of his hands mocked the young brunette.

               "I am so sorry, Mr. Kim," Woojin said, raising his heavy eyes to meet the older man's. He felt his throat hiccup as he saw the disappointment.

               "I know what it feels like, Woojin. I wasn't there, but I know how it feels to think you have to do _something,"_ Wonshik spoke softly. "However, I am old enough to know when I can… and cannot do that."

               Woojin simply nodded, taking a deep breath as he cast his eyes down once more.

               "I don't know why or what happened. I don't care," Wonshik emphasized lowly. "I don't care what Chan said, what he did, if he threatened you or if he is blameless in this situation." Leaning forward, his body language made Woojin meet his gaze once more.

               "I do not tolerate vindictiveness here. While we can be violent, we should never be spiteful. Part of my dilemma is that you've been here a while, I know you, Woojin. But that is also why I am so incredibly disappointed in your actions."

               The younger fighter closed his eyes, the knot in his throat swelling.

               "There are no three strikes here. This is your warning, Kim Woojin. If you do anything, at all, I will be asking you to leave. I won't stop you from finding another gym, I may even come to see you fight in other events. But you will never be welcome here again. Because right now, I am telling you what I expect of you. And if you can't respect me enough to meet those expectations, then we don't need to have a relationship."

               Woojin felt the tears start to brim against his eyelashes, the silence suddenly thudding against his head. His nails were digging into his palms, veins bulging.

               "Do you understand what I am saying?"

               "Yes," Woojin breathed, nodding.

               Wonshik pushed back into his chair, steepling his fingers. His eyes were burdened and they made Woojin want to sink into the floor, to never come back. Blinking at his trainer, his mentor, Woojin slowly stood and bowed deeply.

               "I am so sorry for my actions."

               It was all he had to say and by the look on Wonshik's face, that was all he wanted to hear.

               Woojin closed the door softly behind him, leaning back against it when he realized no one else was here. Wonshik had been called the moment it had happened, and actually flew back to Seoul the next morning. If the older fighter had done that to pile on the guilt, it had worked brilliantly, Woojin staring at the empty gym.

               Jae had cancelled training today.

               He wouldn't have a chance to apologize to Chan.  Not until tomorrow unless he went to see him at his apartment. But Woojin didn't know where that was, didn't have Chan's phone number either.

               And really, he thought, taking the stairs one at a time due to the soreness of his thigh, he didn't _want_ to apologize to Chan. He didn't _like_ Chan.

               Pulling his hood up as he wrenched the large door open, Woojin breathed the chilled air deep into his lungs.

               It was better that Chan hate him, too.


	5. Cold as Ice

                Three months later, there was snow in the air. It was uncommonly cold and the mid day sky looked white, no definition or edge. Just white and it threatened to unleash on them.

               Though that was highly unlikely this time of year, December not being a normally precipatory month. The mountains would get their snow, Seoul would just get the cold.

               And as Chan exited the large building, he bundled his large jacket around his chest. It didn't matter that they had just been sweating in the humid gym for the entire morning. Once the frigid air whipped around the group walk, they all shivered as a whole.

               Sungmin laughed as he commented on the Australian's chattering teeth.

               "You'd think you'd never experienced winter," he teased.

               "Wait, stupid question—do you all get winter down there?" Youngjae asked as the group of 8 all ambled towards the deli next door.

               It was lunchtime—the first of two—for the trainees and each day, they ate at the same place. So much so that they usually had lunch waiting for them as they crowded the small cafeteria. They mixed in with corporate workers and athletes from nearby sports parks alike.

               "That was a stupid question," Sungmin moaned, bumping Youngjae's slumped shoulder.

               Chan laughed, reaching out to cuff Sungmin. "No it wasn't… And yes, we do have winter. But its not your winter," he quivered for visualization. "Our winter is during your summer and never gets this cold."

               Back in Sydney, they had their cooler days. But it was never blistering like it was here and after coming from what he considered chilly, he now had a new appreciation for his homeland's climate. He was looking forward to the spring in South Korea though.

               "If it's too cold for you, perhaps you should go back then."

               Their foot steps slowed and a couple groans sounded out. Chan simply met Woojin's eyes, noticing how they seemed narrower than normal. He must be in a bad mood.

               "You'd like that. I still make you pretty worried, huh?"

               Woojin laughed without humor, rolling his eyes. He too buried his pointed chin into his zipped up jacket. "I guess I am just a little tired of hearing you complain."

               "OK, OK—stop guys. Can we at least eat in peace first before you start in on each other?" Boyoung pleaded, being one of the younger men training. He had no ties to either and, despite his age, often was the referree in their more serious arguments.

               Which they had plenty of.

               Over the past three months, ever since their first and only spar, the seeds had been sown. Woojin made it known he did not want Chan around, Chan replying with his own distaste of the older fighter.

               It didn't help that they were pretty well matched, though Chan edged out Woojin in almost every fight category other than grappling. It was a shame—the others had always wanted to see a rematch, a real one.

               But they couldn't be trusted and Wonshik had given them explicit instructions that they were not to fight.

               He had said, in front of everyone, he didn't want to put Woojin in a situation that could have him expelled.

               Chan had felt bad, but it was momentary. All he had to think of was the moment he had almost bitten the tip of his tongue off from Woojin's cheapshot uppercut.

               "Don't waste your breath," Chan said smoothly, giving Boyoung a smile as he reached to open the deli door. "He isn't worth it."

               Enjoying the uptick of anger surging in the air from Woojin, Chan went in and took a warm seat.

 

-

 

               "Channie!"

               There was a chorus of cheers after that—perhaps because Chan was finally done with his day and his friends had already been waiting half an hour after he had promised to show up. But here he was, holding up his arms as his friends all hollered for him.

               It hadn't taken him very long to find them, though he owed a huge part of it to Jisung. Who, true to his words, had not given Chan a choice of accepting his friendship. A drunk Chan constantly told him he would always appreciate that gesture.

               Jisung had introduced him to Changbin who he immediately liked, though the other was a little quiet in the beginning. It hadn't lasted long and once the two of them realized they had something in common—the appreciation for Australia—they hadn't stopped talking. Of course, Changbin's appreciation was a little different and it wasn't soon after that he met Felix. Chan had been surprised to learn they were both from Sydney and they had immediately reminisced about the beach. Felix himself had only been there for a couple years, attending the same school as Jisung and Changbin.

               After that was Hyunjin and Jeongin who knew each other from secondary school. They had been close with Felix first, then Jisung and Changbin and it felt nice that he was rediscovering Jisung the same way Hyunjin and Jeongin were.

               And after a month or so, the group really didn't do things "alone". There was always some sort of faction and Chan really couldn't remember the last time he had done anything social by himself.

               Pulling up a chair at the booth that was already full, Chan shrugged out of his jacket and laid it against the back. Then he looked around.

               The day had been long and he had been annoyed beyond belief by Woojin, more so than most days. But all that melted away when he saw the five young men in front of him.

               "Ugh, stop looking at us like that," Jeongin groaned. Turning to Jisung, he pointed at Chan. "He's not allowed to drink tonight."

               "Wait, why?!" Chan exclaimed loudly, face showing the offense. Not that he would, not when he was trying to get Wonshik's eye for a possible opener.

               Changbin laughed, leaning his arm on the back of Felix's chair. "Because you're already feeling sappy—we can just sense these things."

               "I am _not_!"

               Blank stares were sent around the table.

               "Fuck off," Chan laughed, reaching his hand up. A young server came their way and he quickly ordered a water with lemon.

               "What a long week," Felix said as he reached over and took a sip of his own water. Then perused the menu, all the while fending off Hyunjin's nit picking with him.

               "I know," Jisung added. "But its Friday so it'll be nice to sleep in tomorrow."

               They all threw Chan a pitiful look. He didn't have the luxury of sleeping in but it was alright, he had too much energy to sleep long anyways. Though, he did enjoy every now and then when they started late and he had a couple extra hours to clean.

               "I'd rather wake up early then have to go to school," he joked, saying his thanks when the waiter brought his drink.

               "Yeah, if I had a choice between being an ultra cool—"

               "And ultra buff?" Hyunjin added.

               Jeongin gave him a glare. "MMA fighter or a lousy student, it's obvious what I'd choose."

               Chan laughed, ruffling Jeongin's hair much to his chagrin.

               "Keep studying."

               The others laughed and it continued into the late evening, the group leaving only when they were told it was closing time. Tumbling from the restaurant, they all stood outside the entrance. Wrapped up in scarves and huddled in hoods, they bid each other goodnight though some of them were getting together the next day for a movie marathon. Chan watched them leave with a bit of envy swimming in his very full belly.

               Sometimes he wished he had more time in the day. Sometimes, he wished he had more time with his friends. It had been a while since he felt like he had any.

               Shaking his head, Chan stuffed his bare hands in the deep pockets of his long puffy jacket. He got to do what he loved, he was able to practice his craft every single day. He couldn't—and wouldn't ask for more.

               The lonliness would eventually dissipate as it did every night, Chan just needed to be patient.

 

-

 

               Ripping his sweater off, Woojin tsked his tongue when his tshirt came off with it. Standing in front of the lockers, he took his time untangling the light shirt from the much heavier sweatshirt. Shaking it out, he heard the voices of the others coming in. They had just finished their morning cardio and his skin was pink from the blood swelling in his veins, heaving his bare chest with each breath.

               Looking over, Woojin saw it was Youngjae and Boyoung, along with another trainee Sunho. They gave him a head nod in acknowledgment.

               They had always kept him at arms length—even before the entrance of Bang Chan. And perhaps that wasn't completely fair. He had always been respectful, but he had never been open. He wasn't there to make friends. He was there because he was good at fighting. Just as he was good at everything else he tried.

               It was no longer interesting or exciting. And it had long since made him everyone's enemy.

               Just as he was going to pull his shirt back over his head, he heard another person start into the small locker room, chuckling to himself. And normally Woojin tried to avoid any and all eye contact with Chan, just for the sake that it spiked his irritation everytime he saw him.

               But today, Woojin didn't look away. Instead, his eyes were glued to the younger fighter who sauntered in, pulling at his own sweatshirt. Woojin watched as Chan tugged it over his head, leaving him in an undershirt, his arms bare. And when he reached out to tussle his now white blonde hair, dopey smile painted on his face, the brunette couldn't look away from the small slice of rib cage beneath.

               "Your hair still creeps me out!" Sunho screeched, starting to wrap Boyoung's hands. It was customary that after cardio, they each wrapped their hands just as Jae had done back in Thailand, and just as how Wonshik had trained to do so.

               Woojin yanked on his tshirt and slammed the locker door. All four fighters looked over but he didn't stick around to see if they'd say anything. Plus, he needed to hurry up and wrap his hands.

 

-

 

               "Again," Wonshik grunted. Woojin huffed before stepping back, setting up the stance before he twisted his body and striking the speed bag in a high kick. Before Wonshik could say anything else, the brunette repeated it twice more. Wonshik was a fan of multiples.

               The veteran fighter's lip curled.

               "Again. This time, do something else," Wonshik instructed, folding his arms.

               "Anything?"

               Wonshik full out smiled. "Surprise me."

               Woojin returned the grin easily and proceeded to carry out the kicks, but this time between the fourth and fifth round house kicks, he added a lower kick, striking the bag in a location long forgotten by most stand up strikers.

               But Woojin was trying to become a better standing fighter and that was one area that could easily lead to a stumble and then he'd be able to get to business on the ground.

               Wonshik hmphed and uncrossed his arms, signalling for Woojin to stop.

               "What?"

               The older fighter shook his head. "I enjoyed that," he explained, much to Woojin's relief. "Where did you learn that?"

               Pressing his lips together, the brunette didn't need to answer. His brain scrambled for a second or two in an attempt to lie. But this was Wonshik he was talking to and reading body language was a deeply ingrained skill.

               It was why the veteran fighter was so successful at winning.

               Wonshik sighed, looking over the gym expanse to Chan who was currently at the weight training station. Then he came back to Woojin.

               "You two need to get over this petty spat."

               "It's not… I don't allow it to interfere with my training here—"

               "That's not my worry, Woojin," Wonshik said sternly. He reached over and knocked on the younger man's head. "You're hard headed. And so is he… its almost like you two are competing for that title."

               "I am focused," Woojin said, getting in the stance to continue doing round house kicks once more. Wonshik chuckled.

               "I'll say this: sometimes its good to be stubborn. You win titles that way," he spoke lowly. "But most times, its just detrimental. Don't let your hard head ruin future success."

               Holding Wonshik's eyes, Woojin finally nodded. His trainer did the same, telling him to continue for the next 15 before meeting him at the ring.

               Before Wonshik could get too far, Woojin called out to him.

               "Yes?"

               Smiling slightly, Woojin dropped into a bow. "Thank Taekwoon for the advice."

               Barking into laughter, Wonshik quirked an eyebrow. "What, it didn't sound like me?"

               "It sounded more like him."

               The older man nodded with a pleased smile. "He'll be happy to know he's rubbing off on me. 15 minutes and then the ring," Wonshik reminded before walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow-- so Woojin obvi knows Wonshik better than we think! And things are certainly... growing between he and Chan, would you say? :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this though! And ah, I know it was a while since I last updated! But,I actually have a legit reason: Vampire Woojin <3 Lol. I havent been able to get it out of my head fast enough so unfortunately this fell to the back burner briefly. But I am back at it and have a couple chapters ready to post. So check back this weekend for another one as an "I am sorry and I love you all!" :) Until then!


	6. Release

               There was something going on, Chan could feel it.

               It was a good something, the others around him all smiles and even Jae had been joking with them earlier in the day. And Chan had been killing it all week—like actually murdering every work out. It was true he was going harder than most weeks but he needed a chance to prove himself in South Korea, in front of Wonshik.

               Chan could remember when he had spotted the MMA fighter in the stands of his paltry gym fight and how excited he had been. And then how embarrassed he had been immediately after. Because it was such a shit show and his old company hadn't done any promotion of the ticket, the small school gymnasium barely half full.

               But Wonshik had seen something in him.

               And Chan wanted to make sure that Wonshik had no regrets with his choice.

               Now they were all lined up in front of the ring after a full day of workouts. It was a Tuesday, the only reason Chan remembered that was because he had dinner with Felix and Changbin later on, the two being the most accommodating of his schedule.

               "OK, I'll let you all go in a couple minutes but I have an announcement," Wonshik said as he leaned against the ringside banister. Everyone immediately stopped talking and Chan felt the excitement start to brew in his chest.

               For some reason, he just knew it was something good.

               "I have been in talks with a boxing gym in Busan. They just started to get into the MMA world and we thought it'd be great if we showed them some of our talent."

               Immediately the murmurs began and Wonshik started to smile, a rare sight but it was apparent he was excited himself.

               Chan grabbed his hands behind his back to keep them from shaking.

               "We'll have three bouts and I've picked the fighters who are going to be exhibitioning. Now," Wonshik spoke sternly. "We couldn't have everyone fight so if you weren't picked, it is nothing personal. It doesn't mean you're lacking—and if you are, we'd have already had a conversation about it."

               Chan was half listening, half thinking about what it would be like to represent his new gym in a spectacular show of force. He'd have to look his challenger up online, make sure he could use his research to get the better of him.

               "For the three fighters selected, just hang back and we can go over the details. For everyone else, Jae will send you the final details of the matches when they're ironed out. I expect each and every one of you to be there."

               Chan looked over at Woojin, feeling his lips curl. He'd finally get to show that asshole what he could really do, what he was capable of.

               "Boyoung, Taewoon," Wonshik began listing off and Chan grinned. "And Woojin."

               There was a stuttering silence, a couple of the other trainees looking to see Chan's reaction. But he just kept watching Wonshik, as if there was going to be another name read. As if it was going to be his name called.

               Then he realized the others had all started towards the locker room, Youngjae pulling on the back of his t-shirt to nudge him to do the same. Chan blinked and then glanced back as Wonshik talked to three chosen fighters.

               That should have been him.

               Yeah, Boyoung was pretty amazing for his age but he still had so much to learn about pace. And Taewoon was a beast of a striker but he lacked in the other areas. And Woojin…

               Chan gritted his teeth, recognizing his anger laced disappointment as he made it into the locker room.

               He had hoped to show that picking him was not in vain, that he had not trained for 8 years to be a mediocre fighter. Chan wanted to finally be able to prove himself.

               Before he could reconcile that thought, he shot out and kicked the bench, the metal screeching across the concrete floor. The others in the room all looked at him, eyes wide. Youngjae immediately came to his front and put a hand on his chest.

               He didn't need to say calm down, Chan knew he shouldn't have lashed out. But he needed to get rid of this energy somehow, otherwise it would build and build until he exploded.

               "We all will get a shot, Chan," Sunho said and his tone was a bit incredulous.

               "I know," Chan said quickly. "I know that, I just… I really wanted it."

               "We all do."

               Eyes following from one face to the other, Chan nodded shallowly. Then he bowed his head, running his hands through his bright blonde hair. "I'm sorry."

               There was a chorus of understanding and hopeful replies, the fighters in that small locker room encouraging their newest members.

               And as they all showered and/or changed, Chan simply righted the bench he had kicked and sat on top of it. He wasn't trying to dwell but he needed to process the why. He knew he wasn't the greatest to ever live, but why not him?

               Why Woojin instead?

               That thought was accompanied by the older fighter entering the room with other two selected trainees.

               Chan saw red for a second, feeling his blood burn in his veins.

               And when Woojin met his eyes, revealing a slight smirk, Chan couldn't help the shaking of his body. He had always had way too much energy and most of the time, he could expend it in a healthy manner. Part of that was why he hadn't given up on MMA after so long.

               Now, though, that resolve to keep it productive was slowly slipping.

               "Maybe next time," Woojin snorted at him, his smirk growing into a large, mocking smile. "Maybe not, though."

               Chan leaped from the bench and before Woojin could blink, his back was slammed against the lockers, narrowly missing a line of handles. The blonde fisted his trembling hands in the other's sweatshirt.

               There was hollering, some young men even running out of their showers to see what was going on. Youngjae was trying to pull Chan off, Woojin was trying to pull him back for a proper fight. Jae skidded in just in time to witness the two screaming at each other.

               "You're lucky I am not paying you back for the cheap shot. I'd knock your fucking teeth out!"

               "Eat shit!" Woojin yelled back, trying to get through Taewoon and Sunho.

               "Both of you, shut the fuck up!" Jae hollered and everyone in the room looked towards the entrance.

               Wonshik was right behind Jae and Chan breathed out forcefully, furrowed brow relaxing into resignation.

               "My office, both you. Now."

 

-

 

               Felix looked at Changbin again, raising his eyebrows. The black haired boy shook his head.

               "Fucking prick," Chan groaned, frowning as he took another sip of his beer. It was his fifth and he was very much tipsy.

               He'd pay for it tomorrow but right now, he just wanted to get Wonshik's calm, incensed tone out of his head.

               Felix reached over and slapped Changbin's shoulder, all out pointing. Chan wondered if they realized he could see them.

               "Why don't you give it a rest?" Changbin suggested, giving Felix a happy now look. Then he sighed towards Chan. "I mean… you did kind of start it."

               Chan simply paused in his swig and stared at the younger man.

               Felix just lolled his head back against the couch, shaking it as Changbin put his hands up.

               "OK, OK maybe right now is not the time to talk about it. Just… you wanna stay here tonight?" The younger boys both looked at the clock on the wall. "It is pretty late."

               Chan immediately felt bad. He didn't want to over stay his welcome, and he definitely didn't want to be _that_ friend. He appreciated that Felix and Changbin wanted to spend time with him and their apartment had always felt a little like home.

               "I'm sorry," he slurred, suddenly feeling the emotions pressing forward. "I'm so sorry—I should go."

               "Chan, it's not a big deal at all!" Felix jumped up, reaching for the fighter as he started to leave. "I just have class in the morning and we know you have workouts." His face softened, his freckles cute at this angle. "Why don't you stay the night?"

               Chan inhaled through his nose, looking over Felix's shoulder towards Changbin. He was now standing and looking like he wanted to say something too.

               But instead, Chan didn't stay to hear it. "No, I should go home. I'll sober up on the train ride. Thanks again for tonight."

               He could hear their slight distress so he pasted on a goofy smile. "I'm good, I promise."

               As Chan slipped into his jacket, he told the two that he'd text them when he got in.

               "Promise?" Felix asked in English and Chan, again, gave a wide grin.

               "Yeah. Goodnight you two."

 

-

 

               Chan texted Felix and Changbin that he was safe and sound in his bed, thanking them again for allowing him to vent. They returned it with genuine words.

               But as Chan pocketed his phone, he pressed away from the neon bar and headed into the middle of the dance floor, the dark flitting around him. In front of him stood the man that had been eyeing him the entire night and Chan wasn't going to let him get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I really enjoyed diving a little deeper into Chan's head-- especially when everything had been going so well for him. Up next is the exhibition :D
> 
> And as always, thanks so much for sticking with this! I know its quite slow so far but once it gets going, I promise it'll be worth it. Should have another update within the next few days <3
> 
> Until next time everyone!


	7. Beginnings

               "Holy shit, you look like a ghost, Chan," Boyoung gasped as Chan joined the rest of the group in front of the large gym doors. He wasn't late, but he looked as if he had literally walked straight out of a coffin.

               "Fine," the blonde mumbled as he started stretching. Then stopped and held his stomach.

               "Fuck, you're not going to make it today," Youngjae cursed, handing Chan a water bottle.

               Woojin just watched, a small slice of him chastising Chan for being so dumb. It was obvious he was hungover and if Wonshik caught wind of that, he'd be in bigger shit than they already were.

               But as Chan resumed stretching, Woojin caught sight of a large bruise like blotch on the side of the younger man's neck. It was stark against the pallor of his complexion. In fact, there were two.

               Something in Woojin's belly tightened uncomfortably.

               Chan looked over and Woojin immediately faced forward, starting off the run.

 

-

 

               Over the next couple of weeks, Woojin made an effort to focus only on his training. He would not allow anyone else's negativity (or the confusion over how he was feeling) to affect him.

               He put mental blinders on didn't consider anyone else as he blew through work out after work out. He had even started eating a little cleaner though it was easier to do when he had this goal at the end of the tunnel.

               He had heard some of the other trainees muttering about how it wasn't even a contract match, just an exhibition.

               Which was correct. And Woojin had fought in more spectacular fights before. But this one was different.

               He wouldn’t think how, it just was.

               And as he finished going over some Jui Jitsu moves, Woojin looked over at the only other person left in the gym.

               Chan was wearing the treadmill out at the back of the gym. His grey shirt was almost black with sweat and his hair lay against his forehead, pink cheeks bouncing with each stride. Woojin closed his eyes and completed the move in his head.

               Chan was always there when Woojin came in early and he was always the last person there at night. The others were starting to get annoyed with him too, and how serious he had become since Wonshik had announced the fighters a week ago.

               Youngjae was trying to help but Chan had simply apologized and focused on whatever circuit he was at. It was dangerous, he was over training—everyone could see that.

               Woojin opened his eyes to see Chan finally slowing. His head hung, as his legs fell into a cadenced trot. Then a casual walk.

               Deciding it was probably a good time to call it a night, Woojin sat in the middle of the mat and started stretching. It would have been nice if he had a partner but he had never asked one of the others to help and Jae only did it when he noticed.

               Looking over at the sound of metal clinking, Woojin watched as Chan started putting weights on the bar which was right next to his mat.

               "Stop fucking staring at me."

               Blinking, Woojin gritted his teeth in response.

               Finishing his stretching, he stood tall and pushed back his own sweat drenched hair. Then he looked right at Chan.

               "See you tomorrow, Channie."

               Chan stopped his press up mid press, freezing for a moment before resuming. This time his repetitions were fast and a little haphazard, so much so Woojin was sure he was going to injure himself. That would sure teach him a lesson.

               But the brunette couldn't allow those thoughts to stay long—or any thoughts for that matter. He didn't need to be distracted for tomorrow's fight, least of all by Chan's ever apparent dismay. 

              

-

 

               Minho had smiled sadly, like he was happy but he was also feeling left out. As spacey as he could be, he definitely cared about Woojin. And as one of his only friends, and sole roommate, he couldn’t help but want to be supportive.

               "Its going to be ok," Woojin said, shaking his brunette hair to cover his forehead, fresh from a shower. But that, too, was a bit of a lie. It wasn't that he was per se nervous. It was just that this fight meant a lot. Not only to Woojin whose back broke out in perspiration at the thought, but Wonshik as well.

               And finally, he'd be able to show that Bang Chan that he was just as talented.

               Although, that was a silly thought.

               Because who cared what Chan thought?

               "So when will you be back?"

               Woojin pressed on the shorts in his duffel bag before dragging his hand to zip it closed. Looking around his room, he checked off his mental list and then face Minho once more.

               "Tonight. Its just a day trip."

               Minho nodded. Then ran his hands through his silky hair, sighing when Woojin flung the bag over his shoulder.

               "You're so transparent," Woojin laughed easily and looked straight at his roommate. "If I could invite you I would. It'll be fine."

               "What if no one cheers for you?"

               Holding his chest that bulged slightly under the weight of the strap cutting across his front, Woojin pretended to be wounded.

               "Wow, that one stung."

               Minho sighed dramatically.

               "I just don't want a grumpy Woojin returning in the middle of the night."

               "Very funny," Woojin rolled his eyes. "How about if I lose, I call you and you can talk me off the ledge."

               Raising an eyebrow, Minho shook his head. "You won't. But I will hold you to it. Just make sure to give yourself a break if it doesn’t go the way you want. You were always way too hard on yourself and I hate to see you go…"

               "Quiet?" Woojin offered thoughtfully.

               Minho smiled handsomely.

               "I'll make sure to have fun while I win," Woojin promised and his roommate followed up with a snide remark.

               And an hour later, when he climbed onto the train headed to Busan, Woojin thought of his roommate. About how he worried over Woojin at a time when Woojin should be worrying over him. It hadn't always been that way.

               The two had met in university, having a historical art appreciation class together. It was an elective they had both needed to complete their graduation requirements. So when they had been paired up for a month long project, Minho had the audacity to laugh at the one thing the ever so brilliant Woojin could never do: draw.

               It had been a relief at the time.

               There was no pressure on Woojin to do something well and both of them had received a barely passing grade for what had been dubbed the easiest course that semester. But it satisfied the requirements and when it ended, the two had a casual conversation about what they were going to do with their Thursday evenings now that the 3 hour class was over.

               "What about fried chicken?"

               That had been a couple years ago and while history saw Minho thrive in his career of dance instruction, it found Woojin becoming more solitary and excluded.

               Gone were the days where Minho would burn dinner and Woojin would still eat it, telling him how good it was because the older didn’t want it to scar him. He used to constantly praise Minho on his talent and skill, his perseverance and dedication when things got hard.

               But over the past year, Woojin found himself doing less and less of that.

               Looking out the window, he watched as they pulled away from the station. Placing his earbuds in, Woojin pressed play once more, Park Won's melancholy washing over him.

 

-

 

               They were all standing in front of the much smaller gym and it reminded Chan of his first one back in Australia. He had barely been a teenager and he had been invited by a neighbor, just for fun. Chan hadn't been interested in boxing or wrestling, being more into hopping around a field or shooting a basketball. He liked those sports. But wrestling? Boxing?

               Chan had realized immediately that what he had been imagining was not at all what he was seeing.

               This was all out fighting, with different techniques and styles and just men going berserk. It wasexplosive energy but controlled execution. It was everything he had ever wanted to be apart of.

               The thought brought a nostalgic smile to Chan's face.

               He felt like the 14 year old who had first stepped foot in a boxing gym and had his mind blown.

               It wouldn't be another 2 years before he would start training in mixed martial arts, but maybe that’s what was special about this moment. It had changed his entire life.

               "What are you smiling about? Excited to see your boyfriend up there?"

               Cutting his eyes at Sunho, Chan wanted to ignore him. Over the last week, there had been a different edge to their jesting. And it was not all their fault—Chan knew he was creating the distance with his attitude.

               But ever since that night, he had realized how comfortable he had become. How complacent he was that he hadn't been the first one on Wonshik's list. He vowed he would become better, that's what he needed to do.

               And he wasn't there for friends.

               Plus, he was not at all excited to see Woojin fight. There were too many memories of when he had been so worried that he had bruised the brunette's face. He was repaid with the uppercut of a lifetime.

               So no, he was not excited see Woojin fight.

               Realizing he had lost his smile, Chan looked over to Sunho. "No," he replied evenly. "Just thinking of when I first stepped foot in a boxing gym."

               He noticed Youngjae's lips twitch.

               "I remember the first time I saw my dad fight. It was… I wasn't supposed to see it because they did it in secret. But I went into the shack behind our house and there was so many people there," Youngjae drifted off.

               "What did your mom think?" Sungmin asked, coming up behind them.

               Youngjae laughed. "She was right there, screaming at him to put his hands up."

               The group tittered as a whole and Chan felt his dimple start to deepen. They went on to share their stories, of how they had gotten into the sport. And while Chan had been briefed on how they had come to Wonshik's, it was nice to discover how different they all were. The urge to fight was borne out of something so different for all of them.

               "Everyone ready?" Jae asked, ushering them in. The trainees not fighting were instructed to meet right inside the entrance and that they'd go in as a group.

               The gym was definitely smaller and the area of practice was not quite as intricate, but for the most part, equipment looked like equipment. And the four young men and two women standing in the ring all wore the same faces as the fighters walking up to greet them.

               Met with cordial salutations, the groups introduced themselves. Wonshik gave a small speech and talked about the program they were in. He talked about himself and how he had been practicing mixed martial arts since the tender age of 10. How he had fought in Thailand with Muy Thai veterans during his teenage years and how he had not stopped fighting for Korea since.

               Chan could feel his cheeks spread with each word and when he glanced at the others, their faces mirrored his. It felt like an honor to represent Wonshik and all his endeavors with the program.

               Seeing his mentor, tattooed and grinning, while he proudly spoke about his fighter, their strengths and dedication, Chan knew he wanted to be something like that, someone like that.

               "So, should we move to the ring then?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of a lead in chapter, should be posting another one (or two?) over the holiday here :) Thank you all SO very much for sticking with this. I promise there is a break in the clouds coming <3


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